Will Priemps Northern Wineries

Elizabeth has tried so hard not to drink around jack, for fear of imbedding some deep, tragic memory of his mother as a stumbling lush. She gulps the pale wine down and imagines the dark bloom spreading then and floating on dry sand. It feels like pouring water on parched soil. Will slips away while she's putting jack to sleep for the first stretch of night. By the time jack flicks out and she emerges into the dim lit hall, her brother is back with a bottle of wine clutched in each fist.